The Wedding Planner
by Vi West
Summary: Nichols first expresses an interest in Morello.


"Dry spell for you, too, huh?"

While the other inmates waited impatiently to greet their visitors, exchange brief kisses, and share crazy stories over half-filled bags of pretzels, Nicky found Morello hunched over a bridal magazine in the TV room. She'd completely lost herself in the pictures.

"I said, 'Dry spell for - '"

"Oh!"

Morello's concentration shattered at the sound of metal screeching across the floor. She jotted something in her notebook and looked up to see Nicky spinning a chair, placing it down backwards, and straddling it. Her eyes were strong and curious.

"Where's your, uh, your guy? Christian?"

"Oh, Christopher couldn't make it this week. Told me he's taking care of something very important. But - " She leaned forward as if to tell a secret. Nicky took the bait. "To tell you the truth, it's okay because I told him I'd have the flower arrangements picked out, and I didn't finish going through all the samples yet."

Nicky raised her eyebrows. "So, next week you'll be ready."

"Next week," Morello said, jotting down another note, "I'll definitely be ready."

"And what about last week?"

"Hm?"

"Christian wasn't here last week, either."

"Christopher," Morello corrected. "Sure he was." She smiled wide.

"Yeah, not unless you snuck him in here and hid him in your little pile of wedding books." Nicky fingered the pages carelessly. Morello pulled them away.

"No," she said, her voice getting higher. "He was here."

"Bullshit. You were in this same spot doing this same thing."

Morello sat back and folded her hands together. "You checking up on me?"

"I'm just saying!" Nicky laughed as she spoke.

"Well, even if you're right, I can't remember anyway. The time just starts to blur together here without him."

Nicky rolled her eyes. Morello didn't see.

"And what about you?" Morello asked. "No one clocking in for Nicky Nichols?"

"Hey," she said, spreading her arms wide. "I make no mystery of the fact that my family situation is more than a little fucked up."

"Aw," Morello cooed, reaching out to pat Nicky's hand. "I don't know what I'd do if Christopher didn't visit me."

Nicky gave a long, throaty sigh.

"Being able to touch him and everything," Morello continued. "Especially when things get hard here, you know?'

Nicky smirked. "You don't say."

"No, it's just - it was the little things."

"Like his pecker?" Nicky stuck up her pinky finger. Morello ignored her.

"When I would get nervous sometimes, my legs would start shaking. And he'd place his hands right here." She spread her fingers out over her thighs. "And go like this." She rubbed them up and down. "And it was nice and all. Then, of course, it'd always lead to…you know. Something else."

"I bet that was all kinds of calming, too. Or are you a screamer or something?"

Morello shifted her gaze and stared at her magazine. "I should get back to this."

"I think I have good hands," Nicky said, examining them.

"Really," Morello replied, feigning disinterest.

"I've been told."

Nicky held her hands up. Morello's eyes wandered there.

"Yeah, they're okay," she said, looking back down to flip a page. Nicky felt the table vibrate against the back of her chair. She glanced under and saw Lorna's legs shaking slightly.

"What about prayer?" Nicky asked. Morello didn't answer. She was scribbling away. "That calm you down, too?"

"Sometimes," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "But it's not Sunday. Chapel's closed."

"Word around here is," Nicky said with a harsh whisper, "Any day but Sunday is the best time to be religious, if you know what I mean."

Morello tried to hide her smile, so it just ended up crooked. Her eyes focused hard on the glossy pages. She crossed her legs in hopes of stopping the shakes.

"You okay?" Nicky asked, her voice gentle.

"Trouble deciding," Morello said, pointing to the pictures and giving up a nervous laugh.

"Really miss him, huh?"

"Said I did."

"Care if I try?"

"I can pick 'em myself. But thanks. Really just trying to decide between these marked pages right here."

They both knew she wasn't talking about the flowers. The shaking was impossible to ignore now.

"I'm not being cheeky," Nicky said. "I seriously have very steady hands. Comes from experience." Nicky slapped her arms where the thick veins laid.

Morello didn't know if it was the shaking of her legs or the heat pulsing between them, but she wanted something she didn't know how to ask for. She wanted Nicky's hands on her more than anything.

"All right," Nicky sighed, flipping her chair back and preparing to leave.

But the legs of Lorna's seat squeaked against the tile as she slid her herself over to face Nicky. She slouched, writhing into a more relaxed position.

"It's like right here," Morello said, taking Nicky's hands and placing them on her legs. Nicky kneeled at her feet.

"Oh, right."

Nicky worked slowly, feeling the tension under her fingers, doing her best to release it. Morello wanted to find Nicky's eyes, but her face was hidden by that thick mane of hair. She saw her concentrating so hard, hoping to make it feel right. Morello smiled and bit her lip, attempting to hide how much pleasure she felt in the motion. Her mouth dry and her breath wavering, she suppressed moans and tried to find words instead.

"Friday was always my favorite day to pray, actually," Morello said. "Good Friday and everything, too." She jumped up, took Nicky by the hand, and led her outside to the chapel.


End file.
